Italy Wants a Hug
by Pokapi
Summary: Italy would greatly appreciate a warm and loving hug.


**So... I wrote this fanfic for my friend because she doubted my writing abilities.**

**I wasn't at all surprised when she told me how much she loved it. Though I do think this is utter crap.**

**Anyway, I thought maybe somebody would want to read it, so... please try to enjoy~.**

* * *

He decided that Japan should be first. Eagerly he skipped over to his good friends' house. The instant he reached the door he slid it open and sang "Japan~! Guess what? You're one of my bestest friends! So I'm gonna give you a great big-!" Thought before he could finish his sentence he was knocked on the head by a bokken.

"Oh, Itary!" Japan cried in shock. "You have to forgive me, I didn't realize that it was you and you, well… frightened me." He exited the room for a couple of seconds and returned with a sheet of stickers. He then stuck one that looked similar to two crossing band aids to the lump that had quickly grown on Italy's head. "This is all I have at the moment, unfortunatery."

But Italy just put on an 'ITOTALLYFORGIVEYOUBECAUSEYOU'RE,LIKE,TOTALLYONEOFMYBFFLSFORLIFE!1!' smile, a particular smile he had learned through the grapevine. "It's okay~." He cheered. "It was just an accident after all, right, Japan?"

"Hai." Japan nodded in agreement. "So, what're you doing here anyway?"

Bubbles of affection began to form around Italy as he threw his arms to his sides. "Huuuuuuugs~!"

A rosy color flushed into Japan's cheeks, ad the next thing he knew he was locking Italy out of his house and stuttering "I-I'm sorry! But I'm not very good with phs-i-cr-a-cr (physical) contact!" through the door. Italy shrugged it off and went onto the next house.

* * *

America was next. He and Italy weren't that close, but Italy was in dire need of a hug. He ventured over to America's kick-ass beach house, where he found him grilling hamburger patties on the back porch.

"Yo, Italy, my man!" he cried. "What happened to your head, dude? There's some kind of monster totally growing out of your skull! HAHAHA!"

"Hi America~" Italy chimed, completely ignoring America's question. "I was just thinking that mabe you needed a hug and-"

"Nah, man, I'm cool. I don't know what it is with your European dudes but I don't swing that way. Haha."

"Oh… ok." And with a sigh Italy continued on.

* * *

By this time Italy was getting sleepy, so he went back home to get his kitty and then over to the world conference room to take a nap on the comfy table. His eyes slowly began to flutter shut when he heard a sudden knock at the door. The creaky door swung open only to reveal the great and powerful Russia.

"Oh, Italy, it's you." He greeted. "I thought I heard someone come in here."

"Hi… Russia." Italy gulped as he rubbed his tired eyes. When as if it had hit him like a wooden sword to the skull he had _the_ best idea in the history of the planet: "Russia, you seem like the kind of person who might like a hug, so…"

Russia put on a kind and warm smile. "I would highly appreciate one, Italy." When all of a sudden a purple-ly evil-ish aura surrounded him. "However," he began, "I fear that I would snap your puny spine in half as if it were only a small little twig."

Italy laughed a nervous laugh for a moment before quickly jumping to his feet and fleeing in terror.

* * *

Italy was sprinting as fast as he could down the seemingly endless hallway until BAM! He crashed into England and France, who were in the middle of a very heated argument. The three of them tumbled to the ground.

"Wanker…" England muttered to himself as he stormed off, rubbing the part of his head that had been injured due to the fall.

France was just about to give whoever hit him a piece of his mind when he noticed that it was Italy sitting in pain before him. He also noticed that Italy was about to burst into tears.

"Italy, what's the matter?" He asked sympathetically in his 'smexy' French accent.

"We-ell… well…" Italy tried to explain shakily.

That was when rance had a genius idea. "Who needs a hug?"

Italy's face immediately lightened up as he threw his arms to his sides.

_Finally_, thought France,_ I can wrap my arms around Italy's warm, tender, delicate, succulent body._

They were but mere centimeters away from hugging when BAM! Romano appeared and kicked France into next week.

"Oi, Veneziano!" He cried. "Why don't-a you ever ask-a a me for a hug?" He questioned. "It-a hurts to know that-a my little brother doesn't even wanna give-a a me hug."

"Oh, Romano…" Italy said as he shed a single tear. And with that, he got up and walked away.

* * *

A few hours later Germany noticed Italy weeping on a nearby bench. After debating the thought for a while, he walked over to see what was wrong.

"Hey, Italy… why are you… crying?" He asked.

"…Nobody wants to give me a hug!" Italy screeched after a few seconds.

"If you must." Germany sighed after a couple of minutes.

Italy smiled and within seconds he and Germany were sharing the greatest bro-hug in the history of the world.

**The End**


End file.
